


combustion

by schweet_heart



Series: Avengers Fic [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bomb, Drabble, M/M, Prompt #061, Prompt Central, Table 1, UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Tony's busy holding his breath, because any second now this is going to go up in his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	combustion

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know the comics that well yet, so this is purely Movie!Verse. Written for [Prompt #061 (bomb)](http://promptcentral.livejournal.com/367.html).

And Tony's busy holding his breath, because any second now this is going to go up in his face, so of course that's when Steve turns to him and says something stupid (“Tony, if we don't get out of this, I want you to know – “), stupid because  _ hello _ , he's holding naked wires in his hands, dammit, as well as the lives of everyone in a couple of mile radius, and what part of that scenario screams 'lets all take up valuable brain cells talking about our deepest, darkest secrets just in case we don't make it'?

 

“Can't talk now,” Tony grunts. “Defusing. Very, very tricky operation and if I touch the sides it's not just a cute little buzzer going off it's the entire fucking block. Can't it wait?”

 

“How likely is it that you can pull this off without us dying?”

 

“If you shut the hell up? The odds are good. Very good.”

 

“How good?”

 

“One in several billion? That's better than the odds of me not screwing up if you keep talking.”

 

“Fine. But Tony – “

 

“Tell me after. If there is an after. And if there isn't, hey, at least you won't live to regret it.”

 

The Captain's silhouette goes really fucking still in the corner of Tony's eye and  _ shit _ , why does he do that, why does he just  _ keep talking _ , you'd think he'd have learnt by now not to say every stupid thing that comes into his head, but no.

 

“You think I'll regret it?” Steve asks, his voice low.

 

“Odds are good,” Tony says, and it's meant to be arch and ironic but instead it just sounds like the truth. “Everyone else does, Steve.”

 

“That's not true.”

 

“It's pretty true. The people who get close to me...well, bad things tend to happen to them. I don't blame you if you want to keep your distance. I would.”

 

“Well, I'm not you.”

 

Tony grunts again, a kind of laugh. “I noticed. If you were, you'd realise how very important  _ silence  _ would be right about now.”

 

“You work better when you're under pressure.”

 

“You don't think the threat of being _blown to smithereens_ is enough pressure to be going on with?”

 

Now it's Steve's turn to laugh, although it's really not that funny. “Okay. You're right. I'll be quiet. Just...Make sure there is an 'after', okay?”

 

“Yes _sir_.” He doesn't _actually_ flip him the bird, but the sentiment is there, and he knows Steve can feel it because he laughs again, then moves away out of Tony's sight.

 

He keeps working in silence for a few minutes, and okay, maybe this  _ is  _ worse, because he can feel every drop of sweat clinging to his body inside the suit, can feel the aching tightness of his muscles as he strives not to make the wrong move at the wrong moment. And it's  _ loud _ , that silence, full of his breath and the sound of metal on metal and, distant, the sounds of the battle still raging outside, and inside his head the thoughts that won't shut up, thoughts of  _ what if  _ and  _ maybe  _ and  _ no, it will never work _ . The bomb is beautiful, in a terrible, twisted sort of way; cold, hard death encased in metal, and he's stripping it down piece by piece - it's a fucking _tragedy_. He's so absorbed he nearly jumps out of his skin when Steve touches his arm.

 

“ _Shit!_ ” Tony exclaims as his hand jerks, and something sparks in the bowels of the beast. He freezes, but nothing happens, except maybe he has a miniature heart attack and almost certainly shits his pants. When nothing continues to happen, he starts to breathe again. “Shit, shit, _shit_. Do you have some kind of death wish, Rogers?”

 

“Sorry.” Steve has the grace to look embarrassed, like he'd somehow forgotten that Tony was trying to dismantle a fucking _bomb_ , as if that would even happen. “I thought you'd have heard me coming.”

 

Tony breathes in, then out. Swallows. 

 

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice tight. “I wasn't kidding when I said I was kind of busy right now.”

 

“I know. I just...I want to help. What can I do?”

 

“Stop scaring me half to death,” Tony snaps at him. “I'm fine. Go back and stand guard.”

 

Steve's hand is still on his arm.

 

“The others can handle it. Tell me what I can do to help you, Tony.”

 

He's crouching on the concrete, looking ridiculous and incongruous in that stupid red-white-and-blue, his cowl off and his entire body  _ hovering _ , how can a man that big even  _ hover _ , he's like some kind of mother hen, a great big sheepdog, like fucking  _ Lassie _ , all concern in those big blue eyes, and his hand slides up Tony's bicep to his shoulder and he can  _ feel  _ it, even through the suit.

 

“Stop touching me,” he blurts, low and desperate. “You know I can't concentrate when you're that close.”

 

They glance at each other, then away, and Steve moves back abruptly, saying nothing. Tony wonders if it was always like this, if one fleeting look was enough to set off a goddamn clusterfuck in his stomach like a million butterflies spontaneously combusting, or whether it's the nearness of death making everything a hundred times sharper and more clear. It doesn't matter. There's only one thing he can do about it right now and that's defuse this fucking bomb, so that's what he's going to do. Because he is Tony Stark, genius extraordinaire, and he'll be damned if Captain America is going to die on his watch.

 

And it would be nice if they got their 'after,' sometime, too. But he won't hold his breath.


End file.
